The Lights Are Off, And I'm Lost Again
by PoeticallyPathetic19
Summary: Dean makes a trip to Stanford. Wincest hintage.
1. Chapter 1

_-Note- Okay...kill me now. Long story short, first laptop hated me and died. Second one took over a year to get, but I have it and it is what brings me to you wonderful people. Now here is the evil part, well the current evil anyway...the wordperfect or whatever it is I use to write in is only a TRIAL program apparently and my trial has expired. So until I can pay for it all documents are LOCKED! Meaning no editing, no writing...etc. dies The moment a credit card crosses my path, I shall pounce. Anywho, here is something I'd just finished last night in time! It's kind of rough I think...or feels off. shrugs I hope you like it anyway. REVIEW people! It is my oxygen! Special love to JJaneru of course:)_

_I'm gonna close my mouth now  
You don't need more noise in your life  
I miss you more than you know  
But I know time makes you move on_

_Armor For Sleep: "Basement Ghost Singing" _

He didn't know what he was doing here. He could have kept driving, could have gone anywhere, could have done anything, and instead he'd found his way here. The one place he hurt the most. It must have been some sick masochistic streak in him that he'd never really paid any attention to until now.

Because now it was out of control.

He _should_ keep driving to anywhere other than here. _Should _want someone other than him. And yet he couldn't seem to control either.

He was beat up and tired, couldn't imagine how terrible he must look to all the unsuspecting people of California. Out of place was the nicest way to put it. And he couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

All he cared about was the shaggy haired young man leaning back against the benches. His long legs were drawn up to his chest, a book balancing on them and his head tilted back in laughter at something the blonde boy behind him had said.

At first he'd been studying, something he always seemed to be doing, then his friends had shown up. A much shorter blonde with his arm wrapped around a pretty redhead. The kind of girl Dean should have been chasing after. The kind of girl he just didn't give a shit about.

It hadn't been long before the bench behind Sam was filled up, his concentration split between the book he was balancing and the friends coaxing him away from it. He still seemed to be struggling between the two, occasionally bending his head determinedly to read something that wasn't quite enough to keep his attention. Then other times he would glance around the courtyard, his bright smile turned down into a frown as if he knew he was missing something.

Could sense something.

But Dean was sure it was wishful thinking. It was dangerous to think that Sam could feel him there. It made him want to stay no matter how badly he was hurting. Or how close he was to shattering what was left of his nothing.

He'd been following his younger brother around for nearly two days now, going on no sleep for the past week. He was tired and worn down, but he kept it up. Needing to make sure Sammy was safe there. Happy.

Because if he wasn't happy, if he needed Dean, he could bring him home. He could rescue him and be the big brother Sam had once needed. Instead he'd found him well adjusted and happy, with more friends then Dean would try and count.

It wasn't that Dean wanted Sam to be unhappy, because he didn't. He'd always done his best to make Sam happy. He just missed his brother. Missed having someone around to talk to and goof off with. With dad it was all business, with Sammy it had felt like something more. Business and pleasure.

He was happy there though and Dean wasn't going to ruin that for him. He was just going to follow Sam home to make sure he got there okay and then he was gone. Off to some nowhere town, fighting to protect people who just didn't know. To spend the rest of his time in obscurity alone and maybe meet up with dad somewhere along the way. Enjoy what was left of his family.

At least that's what he'd told himself nearly two hours ago.

But he wasn't on his way out of here to nowhere. He wasn't on his way to _anywhere_. He was sitting parked outside Sam's apartment, arguing with himself. He'd swore to himself that he'd just follow him home and then leave, now he was negotiating a new set of stupid terms.

He'd just stay the night, then he'd leave. Or maybe he'd just stay for the weekend. No, really he should leave now. Or should he? What if something happened to Sam? What if nothing happened to Sam, then what? He was going to stalk his younger brother for the rest of his life? Yeah that was productive.

It was all stupid and pointless. Just some pathetic way of putting off the inevitable, saying goodbye to Sam all over again.

This time should have been easier though, he hadn't actually been with Sam. Just seen him. That wasn't nearly as bad as the reminder of his voice, his laugh, his touch, his smell. Seeing was torture enough.

Dean tensed, almost certain he'd heard his name. He glanced to the side, groaning loudly as he caught sight of his younger brother jogging down the walk to wards the Impala. This wasn't happening. For nearly two days he'd been able to avoid Sam, and now because he couldn't just leave he'd been caught.

Sam's long legs carried him quickly to the car. He'd thought that was his brother, but he hadn't been sure. Which was crazy, how many people drove an Impala around Stanford? Especially one like this.

Dean bit back the string of curses pushing against his lips. If he hadn't been so indecisive and just started the damn car he could have been out of there before Sam had even cleared the entrance. He shouldn't have been indecisive. He knew he didn't belong here in Sam's new world.

But he couldn't bring himself to cut those ties off completely, no matter how badly things had ended between them. Now he was stuck having to answer questions he didn't have the answers to. Or had the answers and just didn't want to know them himself.

"Hey," he greeted warmly, leaning in the window. "I thought that was you."

His brother nodded, flexing his fingers around the steering wheel. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

_Fuck if I know,_ he thought sourly. _I was hoping you could tell me._

Sam waited for an answer, his smile faltering as he realized that Dean had no intention of even looking at him, let alone starting up a conversation. Whatever reason Dean was here, it wasn't because he wanted to be. But Sam was too happy to see Dean to even care. Too relieved.

"Why don't you come inside?" Sam asked anxiously at his brother's silence. He glanced over his shoulder. He'd told Jess about Dean, but he was afraid of just what she might say to him. The last thing he needed was his brother getting irritated. He was always saying no chick flick moments and if Jess said the wrong thing that's exactly what it would become.

Still he wanted her to meet him, to see what he saw in Dean. His brother was so closed off he wondered if he was the only person to see Dean for who he really was. He wasn't sure dad knew the extent of Dean's selflessness. He wasn't even sure dad knew much of anything beyond his perfect soldier status.

He'd told Jess about Dean right away. Made sure that someone other than himself could see how wonderful Dean really was.

Even when he was being an annoying bastard.

Jess had loved him right away and couldn't understand why they were separated or why he never came by. Sam had shrugged it off and said his job kept him busy, lots of traveling and things like that. It was a lot easier then trying to explain their past and Dean's present.

After that he tried to limit his talking about Dean, but it wasn't easy. His brother was in his every waking thought. He missed him so much that sometimes he woke up in the night with his heart aching so badly he thought it would surely kill him. Jess was patient though and she seemed to love hearing about him. She thought he must have been an amazing big brother for Sam to love him as much as he did.

He'd blushed the first time she'd said it but had nodded all the same, because she was right. Dean had taken care of him, been his everything his entire life. She seemed to get that. Sam was afraid that he would push her away by showing just how much of his heart belonged to Dean, but she'd accepted it as she'd accepted him, salt lines, nightmares, and all.

"Thanks, but uh, no thanks," Dean smiled roughly as he finally turned his face up to Sam's. "I was just passing through and thought I'd stop in and check up on you."

"You're the one that looks like he needs checking up on. What happened?"

"Hazards of the job, Sammy."

That was a laugh. His left eye was purpled around the edges, his bottom lip split and swollen, and his face was still covered in dried blood. His knuckles were tightly wrapped around the steering wheel, scraped and bleeding. Sam wasn't sure if he'd gotten into a bar fight or if a hunt had gone seriously wrong.

"Sam?" Jess called from the door.

Damn. Dean needed to make a decision now before Jess came out here. He'd said he'd only be a second and he'd been out here for a good five minutes what with his brother's macho silence. It was no wonder she was worried.

"Just a sec!" he called over his shoulder. "Come on Dean, come inside. It's been a long time."

Dean gave a half hearted shrug. "Maybe some other time Sammy."

Sam's heart skipped a beat as Dean called him Sammy for the second time. It'd been a long time since he'd heard that. Too long. He didn't even have the heart to correct him about it this time. Any other time and he would have had a fit over being called Sammy. But this was Dean and things were different.

They were always different.

"Jess really wants to meet you," he tried again. "When have you ever been able to turn down a pretty girl?"

Dean laughed, not because Sam was right but because he was wrong. It wasn't pretty girls Dean had a hard time turning down, it was his younger brother. Always had been. That was something too dangerous to tell Sam though. He already held too much power over Dean and he wasn't oblivious to all of it.

Then it dawned on him that Sam had said _Jess_ really wanted to meet him. Like he had told her all about him. He studied Sam's anxious face for a moment and wondered if his brother was anxious because he wanted him to stay or he really wanted him to leave. But if he had said something to this girl about Dean, then she had to mean something to him. That Dean still meant something to him.

Would he really have told her about them? He'd left because he wanted normal. Dean and dad were anything but normal, hell Sam wasn't even normal. He just liked to believe otherwise. And Dean didn't have the heart to ruin that for his younger brother. He deserved to be normal, or to at least have a shot at it.

"And how are you going to explain this?" Dean asked, gesturing to himself.

"Car accident? Bar fight? You can tell her whatever you want."

He could tell his brother still wasn't convinced by the look on his face. This was probably torture, Sam rubbing salt into an open wound for him. But he wanted Jess to meet his brother. He wanted Dean to meet Jess. To show him that he could have the same things-a life, a girlfriend, and friends. It wasn't that people didn't like Dean, because they did. He was always popular in the schools they went to, but nothing ever lasted and he'd accepted that.

"At least come in and clean up before you go. You look like hell."

"Thanks Sam, I appreciate the useless update."

Sam rolled his eyes. "C'mon Dean, just come inside for a little while."

"I don't think so. I should-"

"Do you even miss me?" Sam interrupted, dropping his head. It was a stupid question but he needed an answer. All he wanted was to hear that Dean still felt something. Anything.

"Do you miss me?" Dean asked.

"Only every second of every day," he said, smiling ruefully. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. Saying things like that to Dean was questionable at best. His brother wasn't one for the sharing caring crap as he put it. But it was the truth and he wasn't going to lie. Even if that meant scaring him away.

He'd been miserable for the most part. Even with classes and Jess and friends…it just wasn't enough to erase Dean. Nothing ever would be. But he'd done what he had to. He'd started a new life.

Only lately it had seemed like he was missing something more. Like Dean was right there with him, but he couldn't find him. It was a lot like the nightmares he'd had as a child. It was always the same, no matter what the setting or circumstance, he couldn't find Dean. That was the part of the dream that really scared him, knowing his brother had been there when he went to sleep and now he was gone.

For years he'd gone to sleep holding Dean's hand, hoping that would keep him from leaving. As if he'd ever really tried. And when he woke up from one of those dreams he was even worse, clinging to his brother and offering no explanation. He'd never even told Dean about the dreams. Just let him assume whatever he wanted.

Sam cleared his throat, "So you coming or what?"

Dean hesitated again. These were dangerous waters he was treading. It was bad enough he'd spent so much time here in the first place, but to spend the rest of his time there _with _Sam…that was sick.

_He_ was sick.

"Yeah. Sure," he agreed quickly before he could change his mind. What the hell, he'd never claimed to be a sane man. "What's a few minutes?"

Sam grinned brightly at his brother. He hadn't thought he would come in, hadn't thought he'd even _missed _him. But maybe he had. If he was willing to come inside and meet Jess that meant there was something left for him. Even if it was just a few minutes with his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

-Note- All righty, guys. I gave it my best shot. There are parts I love, others I hate. It took me forever to get this far, so here it is. Send the love (or hate), whateva, as long as you review! -Note-

Sam led Dean up the walk, sure that Jess was just inside the door, waiting anxiously to meet their guest. She knew about Dean, that much was true, but she'd never seen a picture of him because Winchesters didn't do pictures, it was too much of a risk in their line of work. And he'd all but sworn she'd never meet Dean.

Not by his choice of course.

Sure enough, as the door swung open he caught sight of Jess, arms folded over her chest, her face curious. He grinned knowingly, the slight blush creeping up her neck more than satisfying.

He motioned Dean in first, feeling foolish for thinking his brother would cut and run now.

"Jess, this is Dean. Dean, Jess," Sam introduced them quickly, kicking the door shut.

This was going to be very interesting.

xXx

Dean looked Jess over, smiling as he realized his baby brother had finally found himself a girl. A beautiful girl at that. She was at least 5'9/5'10, blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders, and bright green eyes. She looked like a model.

"You are way out of my brother's league," Dean joked, taking her offered hand.

She laughed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Thanks, but I don't know about that."

"I do, believe me," he reassured her. "I grew up with him."

He glanced around the room, watching from the corner of his eye as Jess wrapped an arm around Sam's waist. Not only had he found a girl, but he'd found one that _loved_ him.

"Nice place, Sammy," Dean said awkwardly. What else could he say? Watching Jess with Sam was making him sick, and jealous. He hadn't seen Sam in two years, because he'd left for this place. He'd chosen this life, over theirs. Nice place seemed so ridiculous, it was all he could come up with.

xXx

"Sammy?" Jess questioned.

Sam was sure, the single thought running through Jess's head right now, was how hard it was to imagine anyone calling Sam, Sammy. Even his older brother. It wasn't that he was uptight, he just wasn't as…laid back as Dean could be.

"He's the only one that calls me that," Sam said, wincing as he realized how that had sounded. He hadn't meant to come off so defensive. It was just a nickname after all.

But it was a nickname that only Dean had ever called him. He'd used it when Sam was scared or hurt. When he was trying to make something up to him, or do any of the reassuring things that Dean had done over the years for him, no matter how much he would protest it.

That was a part of his life he never wanted to share. With anyone.

"He hates it," Dean said quickly and Sam shot a thankful glance his way. Even now Dean was saving his ass. "He's not a baby anymore," Dean teased, winking at Jess.

She laughed. "That sounds like, Sam."

What was this? They were _both _on Sam now? What the hell had he just set himself up for?

Luckily for him, Jess seemed to realize Dean's battered appearance then. Or more than likely, she'd held out on saying anything until she couldn't take it anymore. At least she hadn't jumped on him the second he'd walked through the door. She'd given him a good twenty, thirty seconds head start.

Jess never wanted to be rude, but at the same time she wasn't one to let someone get kicked around and not do something about it. Even if that meant the clean up after.

"That looks like a nasty cut," she said, frowning as she stepped forward, her arm sliding from around Sam's waist.

xXx

"Car accident," Dean said smoothly, giving a shrug of his shoulders. He was well aware of how lame that sounded, and just as aware of how easy it was for him to charm his way through this. "I was just passing through, anyway. Figured I'd clean up when I got," he stumbled for a second over his words. "home."

He was sure Sam hadn't told her much about their lives, especially not the part about their going from town to town on hunts. If he made the mistake of mentioning a motel, she'd only invite him to stay longer.

He'd barely stepped foot in their apartment before he felt like he was suffocating. He couldn't imagine staying much longer. He just had to wait for the right opening, the right excuse to present itself. Dean had no doubt that it would. It always did.

Dean tried to hide the surprise on his face as Jess reached a hand out for his again, and this time not in greeting. He took it almost reluctantly, at the warm smile that spread across her face. In that moment, she reminded him of Sam so strongly, he ached.

Sam had always given him that smile, reassuring him that they'd get through whatever, and then he would take his hand and tug him forward. Dean never had to say anything, Sam just knew.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and returned the smile. Ignoring the looks Sam was giving him, he followed her down the hall behind her, to the second door on the right. Jess gave him a gentle push.

"I'll go get some towels and send Sam in," she said. Leaving before he had a chance to say anything.

xXx

"Here," Jess said, handing him a stack of towels.

"What?" Sam asked, confused. He glanced down at the towels in his hand and back up at his girlfriend. What, did she expect him to read her mind or something?

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Go clean your brother up! You can't be that blind Sam, he's hurt."

As if she needed to tell him Dean was hurt. That was the one thing Sam always made note of first when he saw Dean. Not, what is he doing here, but is he okay? What he _didn't_ know was if Dean would let him help.

The civil act between them would only hold for so long. Just below the surface, his brother was boiling with anger. You didn't go two years without a word, and suddenly everything's fine.

"Go," she urged. "Standing here, staring at me like that isn't going to get it done faster."

Sam sighed and grumbled his agreement. If there was bloodshed, this was completely on her head.

He shuffled past her, thinking of any possible excuse to turn and leave. He was being stupid. This had been his idea in the first place, inviting Dean in to meet Jess. It was a little late to be having second thoughts now.

Dean already had the peroxide out, and whatever other bandages he'd found under the sink. He should have known his brother wouldn't stand there, shuffling his feet. He wasn't likely to sit around and wait for anything.

A Winchester trait that had gotten them both into plenty of trouble.

"Hey," he said, dropping the towels on the sink.

Dean nodded and returned the "hey," without glancing up from the bottle in his hand.

_Okay, great start. The lines of communication are definitely open_, he thought sarcastically.

xXx

Dean swallowed and tried to keep his hands from shaking. He could do this himself, the last thing he needed was Sam in here taking up all of his attention. Because that was what he did, every time he entered a damn room.

"I'm fine," he said suddenly, when Sam didn't move or say anything else. It only made things worse, because Sam was never quiet.

"Yeah, I know," Sam said quietly. "I can always tell how bad it is. It's kind of like a sixth sense, now."

Dean nodded, swallowing hard. He tossed the cotton ball in the trash, about to open the bandage when Sam's fingers wrapped around his wrist. He froze, the soft touch sending shivers down his spine.

It was the first touch they'd had in two years. And it meant a hell of a lot more, than a brother's helping hand.

Sam seemed to be thinking the same thing, because his fingers flexed around Dean's wrist and then tightened. He turned to look at his brother, watching the bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed too.

"You missed a spot," he explained, dipping a fresh cotton ball in the peroxide with his free hand.

"Right," Dean replied. He was amazed at how steady his voice sounded. No tremors, no cracks. It was nothing like how he felt on the inside. Score one for Winchester training.

Sam lightly brushed his hair from his forehead and dabbed the cotton ball over the cut, twice for good measure. Or, if Dean let his imagination run away from him, to prolong their closeness.

His shoulder was pressed against Sam's chest, his hips pinned between Sam and the countertop. From hip to shoulder, he could feel every inch of Sam, every flex of muscle as he moved. Sam's fingers still tightly wrapped around his hand.

Sam tossed the cotton ball over Dean's shoulder into the trash, his body turning in the process, until they were pressed from waist to shoulder. He pulled back a little, trying to keep the screaming in his head, in his head.

His brother didn't seem to notice, because he turned back again and picked up the bandage. Now Sam had no choice but to let go of Dean's wrist. He hesitated a second and then let it drop, peeling back the paper.

Sam leaned forward, this time keeping some distance between their bodies as he placed the bandage carefully over the cut. He smoothed it out, his fingers lingering for a split second before quickly pulling back. Dean felt slightly guilty at his brother's sudden change in posture.

Obviously Sam realized that Dean wasn't comfortable with his touch anymore, he just didn't know why.

"Thanks," he said, quickly turning away from Sam, as his hands dropped to his side.

"No problem," Sam shrugged. "I'll get your bag out of the car so you can shower."  
"I really should be going, Sam."

"I know. But if you think Jess is going to let you out of this apartment, looking like that, you're crazy."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed reluctantly. He didn't have the strength to argue now. Not with Sam, or his girlfriend. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't want a shower.

xXx

Sam tried to slow his breathing, or at least return his heart to his chest as he closed the bathroom door behind him. He hadn't expected Dean to agree so quickly to things. Even if what he'd said about Jess was true.

Still, he knew his brother could charm his way out of anything. Including Jess and her mothering.

Shaking his head to clear it, he jogged out to the Impala. He ran a hand along the front of the car, the heated metal from the California sun, warm and familiar against his skin.

Shiny and black, probably just washed. It would be just like Dean to take care of the Impala before he took care of himself, he was like that with anything or anyone he loved.

Sam knew it from repeated experiences.

Biting his lip he reluctantly pulled his hand from the car, as he had from Dean. It hurt, in a bittersweet kind of way, to see him again. To remember everything between them, good and bad.

Whether Dean stuck around or not, he was glad that he'd come by. Glad that he hadn't ignored his logical side, that had tried to convince him that it couldn't be Dean.

He opened the car door and reached in the back for Dean's duffel. The weight of it in his hand as familiar as anything else. He shut the door with his hip, and turned back towards the apartment. Sparing a final, longing glance at the black 67' Impala, he'd spent years in.

Sam barely made it through the door when Jess was on him again, grin spread wide across her face. A look on her face she only got when she thought she had a brilliant idea. Or in other words, a sure way to get Sam in trouble.

God, she reminded him of Dean when she gave him that look.

He groaned. "What?"

"I think you should ask him to stay," she said flat out. "At least for the night."

"Jess, you know things aren't…great," he said hesitantly. "between us. He probably wouldn't even stay."

"So ask."

She turned on her heel then and headed back into the kitchen. Obviously this conversation was over. As far as she was concerned anyway. He rolled his eyes and asked a silent why.

Hefting the bag over his shoulder, he took a few steps towards the bathroom door and hesitated. He knew what was behind that door. Had seen it too many times to count. His older brother's lean, golden (no doubt), body. New cuts, bruises, scars, layered over muscle that rippled when he moved. Rock hard abs from years of training and hunting. Green, golden flecked eyes, that smiled as falsely as his mouth.

His heart hammering in his chest, he quietly opened the door and set the duffel on the counter. He kept his eyes down, knowing that if he looked up, if he caught sight of Dean, he'd never be able to let him go.

xXx

Dean leaned his head back under the spray of almost too hot water. He felt, more than heard, Sam enter the bathroom and hesitate. He knew the same thoughts were probably running through his head too.

He was wondering how long this would last before one, or both, of them snapped and it all came crashing down on their heads. He was wondering how they could fall back into this routine so easily after two years.

He was wondering how things had come to this.

And even if he wasn't, Dean was.

xXx

For the second time that day Sam shut the bathroom door behind him and swallowed his heart. He forced himself to walk away, one foot in front of the other until he came to the kitchen.

Jess's warm face greeted him, reminding him that there were other reasons for him to keep cool. She didn't know much about their past, and this was not the way for her to find out about it. Watching her boyfriend and his older brother lay into one another with words that stung more than the fists that would surely follow.

"I like him," Jess said, throwing her arms around Sam's neck. "He's sweet."

Sam gaped, his head whirling faster. No one had ever called Dean sweet. He'd heard sexy, badass, and even kinky, but never sweet.

Jess laughed at him and moved closer. "Yes, sweet. I'm sure you already figured out that he's gorgeous. You grew up with him, you had to have looked at him at least once in your life, Sam. But even I'm not that shallow."

"I know that," Sam said, rolling his eyes. Suddenly feeling guilty for his hesitance at the bathroom door. It wasn't as if she could read his mind, but it damn well felt like it sometimes. "It's just, I've never heard anyone call him sweet."

"That word a little too complicated for you, baby?" she teased. "He's funny and confident. He's a lot like you actually, but so completely different at the same time."

"He's smart, too," Sam added, kissing her softly. "You forgot smart."

"Oh, so sorry," she murmured, returning the kiss.

"You should be."

xXx

Dean cleared his throat, running a hand through his wet hair. If he wasn't sure how bad of an idea this was before, he was a hundred percent sure now. Just the sight of them in the kitchen had his stomach dropping violently.

It was all he could do not to run back to the bathroom and vomit.

They pulled back, Sam looking embarrassed and Jess just looking happy. He was beginning to see a pattern with this girl. Then again, if he had Sam, he'd probably be just as ridiculously happy as she was. Especially now, after being away from him for so long.

He opened his mouth to remind Sam that he needed to leave, but found himself cut off as if Jess knew as well as the Winchester brothers, that he was making excuses.

"How about a beer?" she suggested, quickly.

Dean hesitated a second, before his face split into a grin. "Sure," he said. "Sounds good."

xXx

Four hours and six beers later, Sam found himself sitting in the living room, chatting about nothing, with Dean and Jess. He was sure the only reason things hadn't blown up, was because Dean didn't want to drag Jess into it. That or she'd won him over.

Sam was betting on the former.

She was doing her best to get them talking, bringing up school (which was a huge mistake), and the party Jess had dragged him to a week ago. All things that were like rubbing salt into an open wound, for Dean.

He wasn't trying to hurt him, and Jess certainly wasn't either, but he was sure that was exactly what they were doing. Dean of course would never say it. Instead playing right along and being his usual charming self. That is, whenever a female walked into the room.

Jess leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Sam's cheek. "I'll let you two catch up. I've got an early psych exam in the morning, anyway."

He couldn't believe this. She was bailing on him. Didn't she care about him at all? Didn't she want to see him alive in the morning?

"Night," he said, forcing a smile. Panicking was a bad idea, nearly as bad of an idea as asking Dean to stay. Not that he really had a choice, Jess had glared at him until he'd asked. If he didn't, she would. And it had seemed like it would sound better coming from him, and not Jess. After all, it was his brother.

Dean smiled warmly at her and nodded. "Good night."

She leaned forward, surprising them both, and pressed a quick kiss to Dean's cheek as well. "Good night."

Dean glanced at Sam, as she walked away. He shrugged and gave him a half smile. Jess had a mind over her own, and it wasn't like Dean didn't like to be kissed. Even if it was Sam's girlfriend and just a kiss on the cheek.

xXx

Dean lasted less than five minutes after Jess left, not that Sam was surprised. He was just surprised that Dean had been the one to break first.

"You know I was never mad at you for wanting to be normal, Sam," Dean blurted out.

Sam frowned. Where the hell had that come from? "You sure seemed mad when I left."

"You don't get it do you, Sam? It was never about that. It was about the fact that you left your family, you left _me._ Like I-" Dean stopped and quickly corrected himself. "Like we weren't enough."

"That's what you think?" Sam snorted. "You couldn't be any further from the truth. I didn't want to leave you, but would you have really come with me? You've been Dad's soldier your whole life, Dean.

"When it came right down to it, I knew you'd always pick him. It was never that you weren't enough for me…I was never enough for you."

Sam held his breath for a moment, wondering why he'd even said it. Dean hated to talk about feelings, hated hearing about them just as much, but for some damn reason he couldn't shut his mouth. He'd just kept going. It must have been the alcohol he reassured himself. Surely Dean would understand that. Or maybe just forget all of it together.

"Sam-" Dean's voice was rough and hesitant. Exactly what Sam would expect from him now that he'd crossed that emotional boundary.

"I'm glad you stopped by," Sam interrupted. "I hope you're still here in the morning."

He stood quickly and set his beer down on the coffee table. That was a cheap shot. Dean had never given him any reason to doubt that he'd be there in the morning, if anyone deserved that, it was Sam. But fair wasn't exactly on his list of priorities at the moment.

He left Dean in stunned silence and headed down the hall towards his bedroom. Jess was probably asleep by now, he reminded himself, as he turned the doorknob. He didn't want to wake her, anymore than he wanted to leave Dean in the living room.

Sam barely had a foot in the door before he heard, "Everything all right?"

Apparently Jess, _wasn't_ asleep.

Sam nodded. As much as it could be between them. He'd made one mistake after the other with his older brother, and eventually he'd lost control of the whole situation. The way things were going, Dean _would_ be gone before morning, leaving him with just one more empty hole in his heart.

Just one more thing to explain away to Jess.

"Did you have a fight?" she asked worriedly. Hiding his emotions wasn't hard for Sam anymore, unless you threw Dean into the equation. Then it was damn near impossible.

"Not exactly," he heard himself say as he kicked off his shoes.

Like Sam, Jess didn't drop much. "What happened, baby?"

Sam sighed and jerked his shirt over his head. He needed to talk to someone, he might as well talk it out with her. There was no use in starting a fight with Jess too. "When I left, Dean didn't take it as my leaving Dad, or our life and the way we were raised. He knew I hated all of it, but he still took it as my leaving _him_. Things just haven't been the same between us since then."

Jess frowned. "Did you tell him that's not why you left?"

"I tried, but it just turned into another conversation Dean doesn't want to have."

She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "He loves you Sam, he wants the best for you. He's probably not upset with you, he's upset with himself."

"With himself?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yep," she said planting a kiss on the back of his neck, as he sat down on the bed in front of her. "He's upset with himself because he wants the best for you. But at the same time, he wants to keep you with him. And those are two different things right now. He's mad at himself because he thinks he's being selfish. It's not you, Sam."

Sam's mind completely blanked. It all seemed so simple and so damn like him. He couldn't believe he'd never thought of this before. He had gotten the part about Dean taking it personally right, but the anger…that was directed towards himself.

Jess was right. For God's sake, why the hell hadn't he seen it sooner?

"You're a genius, you know that?" he said, twisting his neck around to look at her. "I can't believe I never thought of that."

xXx

Dean growled low in his throat and rubbed a hand across his face. It had been a stupid thing to just blurt out, but it had been hanging over their heads since he got there. And it seemed even more stupid to pretend like there was nothing there. Not when he could clear things up between them. Make things a little more bearable.

Still, he hadn't expected the twist in conversation, and more than anything, he hadn't expected Sam to call him out on his plans to escape.

He'd thought that things had gone well, and that Sam, like Jess, would expect him there in the morning. Would be shocked to find him gone, not ten steps ahead of him, and expecting it.

He felt like scum, hearing Sam's empty tone as he said he hoped Dean would be there in the morning. It was so expected, so certain, in Sam's mind that he couldn't even bring himself to sound as if he were joking.

Dean slumped back in his chair and listened for the click of Sam's bedroom door. He was asking a lot of Dean, whether he realized it or not. He'd spent the afternoon with Jess and Sam, watching her watch Sam, with the same loving eyes he'd always had for his brother. That undying devotion and need.

She loved him. He hated her for it. And he hated himself, for hating _her. _He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't her fault he was sick. Or that their lives had turned out this way. She was a sweet girl, who only wanted Sam to be happy. It was obvious in everything she said and did.

Dean should love her for that. For wanting to make his brother happy at all costs, just like he always had.

But he didn't.

What shocked him more than that, was the fact that Sam had wanted to bring Dean with him to Stanford. He'd never said anything about it before to Dean, and it wasn't fair for Sam to just assume Dean knew that he was wanted here.

Still, he understood that Sam was afraid to ask. That he really thought that Dean would choose Dad over Sam any day. Too bad he hadn't asked.

He finished his beer and pushed up from his seat. He was going to get through this, he was going to be there in the morning, and he was going to show Jess that he appreciated everything she did for Sam. He was going to stop hating her, if it killed him.


	3. Chapter 3

-Note- Ah, so here it is. Finally. An update! And it's thanks to Miss Cinnamon and her quick beta skills! Much love girlie! -Note-

It was late afternoon by the time Dean dragged his ass back to Sam's. He'd snuck out early that morning before Sam or Jess had gotten up, and part of him thought that maybe it was to get back at Sam for his '_I hope you're here in the morning_,' as if he was the one that was so practiced in walking away.

The other part of him thought it was just to avoid the sight of them together until he could learn to accept that Sam was Jess'. He couldn't remember a time in their lives when Sam wasn't his and he wasn't ready to give him up just yet.

Dean hadn't planned on _leaving, _leaving though. Just a morning away from the nauseous sight of his younger brother and his perfect new girlfriend and maybe a little lesson thrown in there for Sam. Two really, if you counted the fact that Dean was coming back and that in and of itself should have been a lesson to Sam.

Of course, it was his unfortunate luck that the exact moment he picked to come back was the one in which Sam and Jess were lip locked. That would make it the second time he'd walked in on them like that, it said a lot about his luck.

"Hey," Sam said, a surprised smile spreading across his face as he pulled back from Jess. '_I thought you left,'_ hanging heavy in the air between them.

"Hey," he said with an answering smile. He shifted, cocking his hip to the side as Sam continued to stare at him. Dean really hadn't thought it would be _that _big of a deal, but apparently it was, because Sam wasn't taking his eyes off of him. Like he expected Dean would suddenly disappear or take off running.

Jess smiled at the two of them and leaned back against the countertop. "Wow, you were up early today. You were gone before I even left for class."

"Yeah." Dean nodded, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I had a few things I needed to take care of. I just came to say goodbye." He looked up then, meeting Sam's eyes.

Sam's dropped the second their gazes met and he cleared his throat.

"Oh, so soon?" Jess asked, saving Sam from having to say anything. "Well, couldn't you stay for just one more beer?" She gave him a hopeful smile and tilted her head towards Sam.

Dean watched Sam's mouth twitch and his weight shift from foot to foot as Jess stared at him patiently. Why was Sam the uncomfortable one in this situation? This was his apartment, his girlfriend, his goddamn life. If anyone should be uncomfortable, it should be Dean.

"Yeah, sure. What's one beer?" he answered. It was the only thing he could think of and besides that, he didn't exactly want to leave just yet either. Things still felt too unfinished.

Sam shot him a sideways glance but said nothing, so he ignored it. Those days of unspoken conversation were long behind them and he didn't need to get used to something he'd only lose again.

He sat down only to make things go faster. He knew Sam and after spending some time with Jess, he felt he knew her well enough to know that neither one of them was going to let him walk out without a fight. And he just wasn't up to a fight right now. Especially not after walking in on them for the second time since he'd been here.

Dean swallowed back his irritation and nausea, putting on his best charmer smile. Jess smiled back as she sat down in the chair next to him, clearly pleased with his reaction. _Oh, honey, if you only knew_, he thought dryly. The things he'd smiled through before…this hurt like hell, but so had everything else and he'd managed just fine. The next few minutes and the slick convincing it would take to get out of here were going to be far from easy, especially looking at Sam now, but it was far from the hardest thing he'd ever done.

He realized now it was harder to come here than it was to leave. Dean had done his best to make peace with Sam's leaving and had conditioned himself for the fallout well enough that he could still walk away from here without eating his own gun, if just barely.

Sam sat down in the chair to his left, his legs spread wide and his knee pressed firmly against Dean's leg. Dean didn't move, instead sinking lower in his own chair and returning the pressure. It was the only _'sorry_' he could manage for the way he'd jerked away from Sam's touch yesterday.

"So," Jess started, clearly noticing that neither Winchester brother was good at starting a conversation they didn't want to have. "I've been dying to ask you this since you got here. What was Sam like as a kid? Any embarrassing stories?"

Dean laughed and sat back in his chair. "Sammy? I've got plenty of those."

Sam groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Why did I introduce the two of you again?"

_'I've been asking myself the same question_,' Dean replied silently.

Still, embarrassing stories about Sam? That was a request he wasn't going to pass up. He took a long pull off his beer and slung his arm over the back of his chair. It's not like there was anywhere more important for him to be, other than right here.

xXx

"He used to throw the biggest tantrums when he was a kid," Dean started, clearly deciding it wouldn't hurt to indulge Jess a little bit, especially if it was at the expense of Sam. "It was my fault for babying him but it was hard to say no, when he turned those puppy dog eyes on you."

Sam snorted. "They didn't stop you from torturing me."

"Aw, Sam, that's what big brothers are for. I wouldn't be much of a big brother if I didn't torture you every now and then."

That was a lie. Dean was a great big brother and he hadn't tortured Sam nearly as much as other big brothers Sam had known. Dean had stood up for him and was the first to start throwing punches when Sam was unhappy. Kids had always made off hand comments about wanting to trade brothers.

"I'm sure. And I didn't throw tantrums," he defended himself.

"No?" Dean laughed. "Then what would you call screaming and crying until I picked you up?"

"I wasn't that bad," Sam protested weakly.

"You were seven, Sam. That's pretty bad."

"Seven?" Jess gaped, interjecting for the first time since she'd started this. "You were throwing tantrums at seven? _You_, Mr. Maturity?"

"You think that's bad? He-"

"Well, this has been fun," Sam interrupted and stood up. "But I'm not sure how much more of this I want to hear."

Dean smirked and shook his head. "Can't take it little bro?"

Sam sat back down. His brother was challenging him and he couldn't back down from that. If he did, there was no telling what Dean would say to Jess when he walked out of the room. Nothing he'd be proud of, he was sure.

"I remember this one time, you were about five, six," Dean said quietly, glancing up at his brother for a moment before staring back at the beer in his hand. "I left you alone with Dad for ten minutes and when I came back you were ballin' your eyes out. Damn near killed me the second I walked through that door." He shook his head and smiled at Jess. "Didn't let go of me for a good two hours, at least and only after I swore never to do it again."

"That's so sweet," she gushed.

"Sweet? He gave me the silent treatment for days after that. That was the patented Sammy routine," Dean teased. "Sweet one second, the next he was the biggest brat in the state."

Yeah, Sam remembered that day and maybe he had been a brat afterwards, but he'd had a damn good reason. It had been a hell of a lot longer than ten minutes, and he'd been terrified to find his older brother gone. Sure, he'd broken into what was now an embarrassing fit of hysterical panic but he thought he was entitled to some irritation at the very least.

Sam hadn't been able to help it after all. The idea of Dean being away from him had given him his fair share of panic attacks, even at such a young age but he had looked up, expecting to see Dean watching him like he always did, with a smile that finally reached his eyes. Instead, he'd found him gone and hysteria had taken over.

**Sam put down his crayon, chewing on his lower lip as he surveyed his work. Dean had given him a box of crayons and a drawing pad for his birthday two days before, after Sam had brought home a drawing from art class and given it shyly to Dean. **

**Dean had grinned broadly and scooped him up into a bear hug. "It's great, Sammy. I love it." **

**Sam hadn't stopped coloring pictures since and Dean had finally gotten tired of scrounging around for paper every few hours and bought him his own drawing pad. **

**It wasn't that Sam was particularly good at drawing, even as a six year old he knew his art skills were limited, or even that he enjoyed coloring that much. He liked it just fine, sure but his real pleasure was in the reaction Sam got from his brother every time he produced a new piece of work. Especially Dean's smile. **

**Satisfied with his latest creation he hastily packed up his crayons and kicked his legs out from underneath him. His heart was racing with anticipation and nervousness. It didn't matter how many times he gave Dean a new picture, or how driven he was to do it, it still turned him into the shy six year old he'd never been.**

**It was silly, really. It wasn't as if Dean would ever react negatively to Sam, especially not when it came to something that was obviously done out of love and the need for Dean's approval. Something he was sure Dean could understand. **

**Sam glanced up from his hundredth critique of the drawing and saw only Dad in the booth across from him. His father was reading through the paper, searching for any new jobs and eliminating nonsense ones. In other words- he wasn't paying a damn bit of attention to Sam, which would have been fine if Dean was there. Like he should have been. **

**His stomach pitched as he realized that Dean was _gone_. When Sam hadn't felt Dean's presence beside him any more he'd assumed that Dean had moved to sit beside Dad and look over the paper too. It wasn't unusual for him to switch seats when Sam was busy concentrating for him. Dean usually took the opportunity to and try and help Dad. He was always trying to help someone. **

**Sam sat there for a few seconds, as calmly as he could. Dean had probably gone to the bathroom, he reassured himself. He would be back any minute to 'ooh' and 'ahh' at Sam's latest colorful explosion and feed his ego. There was nothing to be worried about, or to panic about.**

**He took slow breaths like Dean had showed him before, when he'd caught Sam in the middle of a panic attack. In through his nose and out through his mouth but not too deeply. **

**It wasn't working this time though because Dean wasn't there to help him through it. Breathing techniques or not, Dean was what had calmed him down that time and every time after. He just hadn't had the nerve to tell Dean that. **

**Five minutes went by, then ten, and by the time it had reached the fifteen minute mark Sam was in full blown panic mode. His body was shaking, his mind racing as fast as his heart and nothing he tried would stop it. **

**He didn't remember what happened next, everything was suddenly a blur, his panic too strong for him to notice anything else until Dean was racing towards him. **

"**Sam, stop!" Dean scolded, picking Sam up from the floor. "You're not a baby, stop it!"**

**Sam turned his tear filled puppy dog eyes up to Dean and gave a sniffle. Dad had just given Dean another lecture about babying him that morning and Dean was obviously still feeling the sting of that reprimand or his first reaction would have been to comfort. **

**"Dean," Sam hiccupped, his whole body shaking. "I couldn't find you."**

"**I was in the bathroom, Sam. I told you that." Dean's eyes were remorseful even as his tone remained unaffected. He was clinging to his last bit of self control, well aware of the fact that Dad and everyone else in the diner was watching them.**

**Sam sniffled again. He'd come to that conclusion on his own, not remembering Dean ever telling him that. All he knew, was that suddenly he had been all alone with Dad and that just wasn't acceptable. Besides, Dean's trip had been far too long if Sam had launched into blind hysteria. Probably so lengthy because on his way back to the table Dean had gotten sidetracked by the row of video games not ten feet away from the bathroom. It had happened once or twice before; Sam just hadn't realized it until now. **

"**You left me," Sam insisted indignantly. **

**Dean sighed and pulled Sam tight against him, his hand instinctively tangling in chestnut locks. A shiver ran through Sam's small body and he wrapped his arms around Dean's neck in a death grip. He wasn't letting go of Dean again if he was going to leave him.**

"**Sorry, Sammy," Dean muttered against his brother's hair. "I'm here. I'm always here, Sammy."**

And he always had been. Dean never broke a promise to him; it didn't matter what it took. He _always_ came through, never even expecting a thank you. Sam shook himself from his aching memories and gave Dean his best smirk.

As a child he'd been so attached to Dean that it had bordered on a disorder and Sam had refused to let Dean out of his sight for more than was necessary. Even school had been a challenge at first.

It was funny to think back now about how desperate he'd been for Dean and how it had seemed Dean craved space more than Sam, which he never really took. Dates here and there, trips to the bar, small things like that. The only normal things Dean allowed himself. And now, Dean was the one coming to him. Dean was the one that hated the space between them.

He'd hurt Dean too much to ever deserve the things he'd done for Sam. It had taken some stupid razzing about a childhood fit for him to see just how selfish he'd been in coming to Stanford, in leaving Dean without even talking to him first about things. How could he have given up someone like Dean for _normal_? How had he let go of that desperation just long enough to make such a stupid decision?

"What can I say? I learned from the best," Sam added, noticing Dean's sudden suspicion. His acting was rusty obviously, at least with Dean. Jess on the other hand didn't seem to notice anything. She was glancing back and forth between them, grinning from ear to ear.

"When have you ever seen me throw a tantrum?"

"Okay," Sam admitted. "Never. _But_ the brat part is dead on. There's no use in lying Dean, I've already told her about you."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, what exactly did you tell her?"

"That you're the greatest big brother anyone could have," Jess answered for Sam before he could come up with another smart ass remark.

Sam stared at Jess silently, half wishing she hadn't said it. She had never seen Sam so sarcastic before or as happy as he was when his brother was with him, he knew that was what had prompted her to speak up for him in the first place. It was also obvious that that Jess didn't want the two of them to walk away from this completely oblivious but blurting things like that out to Dean was dangerous.

Last night's conversation should have warned him of her fix it intentions.

"There's got to be a catch to that," Dean said raising an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tilted in a self depreciating grin.

"I've got the scars to prove that one," Sam muttered. Dean's disbelief at Jess' words irritated him to no end. He loved Dean and what Jess said was the most honest answer Dean could have been given. Still, Dean took it for granted like Sam took him for granted. Fair was fair, right?

Dean kicked him under the table and pointed his beer at Sam. "Not my fault."

"You're always innocent, huh?"

"'Til proven guilty, Sammy, you know that."

He smirked at his younger brother and Sam rolled his eyes. Dean _was_ always innocent as far as most could see. The only time he'd ever gotten into any trouble was at school, fist fights here and there but somehow he always managed to talk his way out of it. Yet another example of Dean's Winchester abilities at work, or maybe that one was just all Dean.

xXx

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and make as many smartass remarks as possible along the way, right?"

Dean's mouth turned down in mock thoughtfulness. "Pretty much," he agreed after a second.

Maybe sticking around hadn't been such a bad idea after all. Sam was already embarrassed and Dean hadn't even got to the good stuff. Sam and a temper tantrum was nothing; he had years and years worth of material to keep Jess entertained and show her the real Sam without having to come right out and say his brother was a freak. Then again, she probably already knew that. Sam had never been able to hide it that well.

"Like you didn't bring in enough trouble without opening your mouth," Sam griped.

"Saved your ass more than a few times," Dean pointed out. In more ways than Sam had or would ever know.

Sam gave a snort of laughter. "Not as many times as it got us in trouble. I spent two weeks in detention because of you! It just figured that we'd actually be in town those full two weeks."

"Technically it was three, we got off in two," Dean corrected with a smirk. "It would have been a lot longer if Ms. Samuels hadn't been so friendly."

"Ms. Samuels?" Sam frowned, searching his memory. Realization dawned on his face. "You have _got_ to be kidding me," Sam gaped. "You were fooling around with my Spanish teacher?"

Dean shrugged. "Did you want to spend three weeks in detention? You spent most of the time in there glaring at me anyway. Drove me nuts."

"So you decided to fool around with my Spanish teacher?" he tried to clarify.

Dean raised a brow. "Do you remember what your Spanish teacher looked like?"

"Dude, that's sick. You were sixteen!"

"Seriously, Sam. Do you remember what she looked like? At all?" he prodded. "Dark hair, chocolate brown eyes…" Reminded him of Sam actually.

Sam shook his head, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "I can't believe you. I knew

you had issues man, but that's just wrong. A _teacher_, Dean? _My_ teacher?"

"Just be thankful you didn't spend the next two months in detention, man. Cause sooner or later I would have killed you."

"Is it too late for you to do that now?" Sam groaned.

"Don't be such a drama queen, Sammy," Dean chided.

"Dean, do you even _remember_ why we had detention in the first place?" Sam asked.

He shrugged. "Not really. That was ten years ago. How the hell do you even remember that?" Oh, stupid question. Winchesters were great at holding grudges, it was second only to loyalty.

"It was your mouth, not that, that is much of a surprise with you," Sam said, glancing at Jess. "Dean never could keep his mouth shut."

Sam was wrong, so very, very wrong. He'd kept his mouth shut more times than he cared to remember. Mainly the day Sam walked out of his life all together. Or even now when he didn't want to keep his mouth shut.

Who was he to talk about not keeping his mouth shut anyway? Sam had _never _been able to keep his mouth shut around Dad. With teachers Sam was a little angel, at home his mouth never stopped going.

"I was late for class one day and when Dean found out, instead of just letting me take one day's detention for it he decided he was going to 'take care of it for me'."

"Hey, I was only trying to help. God knows what they would have done to you in detention." He didn't bother to tell Sam that even the High School boys were starting to look at his developing younger brother and the kind of danger he was afraid awaited Sam in detention had nothing to do with an ass kicking.

"Okay, so what was telling the teacher you'd take another week and anything else they could dish out?"

"A mistake?" Dean suggested.

Sam threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "Now he gets it!"

"At least I got detention too. I could have stuck you in there by yourself for two weeks, maybe added on a few more."

Sam snorted and shook his head. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say man."

"Okay, okay, so that time it _was_ my fault. But you did your fair share of getting us into trouble too," Dean argued.

Sam snorted. "Like when?"

"Like that time, just outside of Sedona," Dean said, turning towards Jess. "I'm not the only one that can't keep his mouth shut…"

xXx

Sam stopped listening then, to Dean's words at least. He never stopped listening to Dean's voice; he couldn't. There was something so soothing about it that when he was having a nightmare or the rare panic attacks he got when thinking about his past, all he had to do was think of Dean's voice and everything else faded out.

Dean had always been able to do that for him, to make things seem better than they were, or at least help him forget for a little while. Whether it was a reassuring grin or a squeeze of his hand, Dean could change everything.

Four years had gone by and Dean could still do it. Less than an hour before he'd been kissing Jess and trying to forget that his brother hadn't stuck around like he'd hoped and then suddenly he was back and Sam couldn't have been anymore relieved. Until Dean had said he was leaving of course. Then suddenly he wasn't, he was staying. He was smiling at Sam and teasing him like old times. Joking, laughing, sharing _good _memories instead of bad.

Four long years and this was the best they could do. Reminisce and bite back the words they were both dying to say. Words on Dean's part Sam wasn't so sure he wanted to hear. Words that any time before now would have been nothing but adoring, well, in Dean's own way.

Now, though…look at them. They were a mess. Sam had to have his girlfriend say all the things he couldn't- to his own damn brother and Dean just didn't say anything. It was easiest that way on him, no doubt but didn't he ever want to fight things out? To just put everything out there and let things go from there? Because Sam sure the hell did.

"What did I do that was so bad, man?" Sam asked suddenly, interrupting Dean's story. "I mean, I get that I left…" he hesitated for a second, not so far gone that he didn't realize that Jess _was _still there. "that life behind, but why did that have to change things with us?"

Dean blinked and set his beer down slowly. He raised a brow, asking Sam if he really wanted to do this now, in front of Jess. Sam glanced at Jess and then back to Dean, licking his lips nervously. He wasn't even sure he wanted the answer to this question period, but if he was going to get one, he might as well get it in front of Jess.

If this was the end, what did it matter who knew?


	4. Chapter 4

_Thinking back I forgot to tell you this  
I didn't care that you left and abandoned me,  
What hurts more is I would still die for you._

Dean shrugged and nodded once. Okay, if Sam wanted to do this now that was fine with him. He was going to be leaving soon and clearing the air was probably better for them both; he could have done without the audience but what the hell. If Sam was hers, she might as well learn real quick what they were about.

"It wasn't just about the leaving, Sam. It was…safer for you back home." He had to be careful about his words, with Jess around. She only knew so much and it was better for her to think that he was an overprotective older brother, than someone who was having a psychotic break in reality.

"I seriously doubt that," Sam snorted as if to ask Dean if he remembered what their lives were like.

The hunts, the seedy motels and being left alone for days at a time, never knowing if Dad would come back or if they'd be alive if Dad did come back. They were exceptionally trained: smart, strong, and Dean would do everything to protect Sam, but they were still kids and there were a thousand different ways things could have gone wrong for them. They'd never been safe.

But that wasn't what Dean had said. He'd said it was _safer_ there for him, not _safe_. There was a big difference and Sam had to realize that.

"I was there to protect you," Dean pointed out. He wished he had a better reason, something that would make his brother think twice and maybe even turn Jess onto his side. As it was- that's all he had.

"You can't protect me from everything, Dean," Sam insisted.

It was Dean's turn to snort now. "Like hell I can't."

He could tell that Sam was starting to get nervous, probably because they were talking about their past- something he didn't usually like to share. Dean was sure of that. Sam hated where they came from and the things they'd done but Sam had been the one to start this and he could damn well accept the consequences.

"That's why we don't talk, Dean? Because you're not around to protect me anymore?" Sam laughed quietly and shook his head at Dean. "You had to know I'd grow up one day, big brother."

Dean shrugged. Growing up was one thing, but being alone, knowing what they knew- that was something all together. College was one thing and Dean was fine with it if that's what Sam wanted, but why the hell did it have to be all the way out in California?

"It's hard to let go of some things. Eighteen years is a long time, man. It's not like I didn't know how you felt, I just never thought you'd go. I'd thought you stick around, maybe not forever but a hell of a long longer than you did."

"Like you?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean smiled grimly and nodded. Yeah, he knew what Sam thought about him and about his staying. It was the same way Dean felt about Sam's leaving, but they were going to have to learn to accept that if they wanted things to change.

"Except I'm not going anywhere. I can't."

"You can!" Sam started in his chair, his cheeks flushed with determination and his eyes flashed as he leaned across the table towards Dean, pressing their legs harder together and reminding Dean how much he'd missed this. "You have a choice, Dean. I got out and so can you!"

Dean shook his head and watched his brother deflate. Sam's whole body slumped back in his seat, eyes downcast as his leg slowly slid away from Dean's- shot down again. Dean's heart clenched at the sadness in the chocolate brown eyes, desperate to avoid his. He hated turning Sam down, but he couldn't lie to him either. In the end it would only hurt him more.

"Sammy," Dean said hoarsely. He pressed his leg against Sam's and cleared his throat. "Look at me, Sam. C'mon." Sam slowly lifted his gaze to Dean's with heavy reluctance and Dean smiled softly. "This isn't something I can walk away from. I'm too old for that, man. It's too engrained in me to do anything else."

"I was there too," Sam argued, some of the fight coming back into him. "But I did it."

"I know." Dean nodded. "And I'm proud of you, Sammy, I am. But this has always been different for me. I've never even thought of anything else, never wanted anything else."

"What about a family? You've always wanted-"

"Don't," he warned. "I have a family already and anything else just wouldn't be fair. You want that for some other kid?"

"You took care of me, Dean. I know what kind of father you'd be and it's a waste for you to spend your life alone."

"I'm not alone," he lied. He had Dad and Sam…in some ways. It wouldn't matter if he was alone or head over heels in love. This was his life and he couldn't walk away for something so selfish.

"Does Dad even know what happened?" Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest, one brow raised questioningly. "Would he even notice if you didn't come back?"

Dean laughed bitterly and stood up. "I think I'd better go before we're right back where we started." He hadn't come here to fight and he didn't want to leave on that note. Things had been going good between them until Sam got all touchy feely on him. He could have left on good memories, instead of bitter ones.

"Aren't we still there anyway? Or were you actually planning on calling sometime? Am I ever going to see you again?"

He recognized the shot Sam was taking, and had argued with himself time and time again about the decisions he'd made, but to hear it from Sam now was more than he could take. He wasn't the only one at fault here.

"You could have called too," Dean snapped defensively. "I don't remember my cell ever ringing either. You know damn well I would have been here if you needed me." He'd almost slipped up and said wanted instead of needed. But that opened too many doors he wasn't ready to even acknowledge existed.

Sam hung his head in shame, the righteous anger in his questions fading a bit. "I was afraid."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, dropping his voice. "Me too." How could he fault his brother for being afraid of his reaction when he'd been afraid of the same thing. They hadn't exactly gone their separate ways in the most caring way. Their goodbyes had been filled with yelling, slamming doors and heavy silences.

xXx

"Why?" Sam asked in honest confusion. What did Dean have to be afraid of? Sam never would have hung up on him, wouldn't have stopped taking his calls. At least he'd like to think so.

What kind of brother did that? What kind of person did that to Dean period?

Dean's eyes drifted to the empty beer bottle sitting in front of him. This conversation was getting too intense for him and Sam could feel him pulling away. He'd gotten more out of Dean than he'd ever expected and he was starting to push his luck- not that it stopped him or anything.

"I never said-"

"I know that," Dean interrupted. Dean didn't need Sam to finish the sentence; there were no blanks for him. They both knew what Dad had said that night. "I never said that myself though, did I?"

"You didn't disagree with him," Sam reminded him quietly. Dean didn't need to come right out and say it, it was obvious in the way his eyes never met Sam's and the stubborn set of his mouth as he watched the two of them fight things out.

"I didn't think I had to." Dean stared hard at him, forcing Sam to see things his way.

"I needed you to say something," he whispered. "God, anything."

"I couldn't." Dean shrugged helplessly. "What if I had said something worse?"

"Would you have?" Sam wondered. Would Dean have said something worse than, I 'don't come back' /I ? Had his brother really had it in him to hurt him more than Dad had?

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I didn't want to. I wouldn't have meant it, but I wasn't thinking clearly. Things were…"

"A mess," Sam supplied.

"Things were always a mess. This was different."

Sam nodded his agreement because he couldn't think of anything else to say. He had needed something from Dean that he hadn't been able to give and it wasn't because he hadn't want to. There had been just too much pain on his own end to try and mend things for Sam. They'd both walked away because they hadn't known what else to do and now they were paying the price.

"We both made a lot of stupid mistakes, Sam. Four years is a long time to pay for them."

"I wasn't trying to make you pay for anything. I never blamed you for any of this, if I had-"

"Hey, man," Dean said waving Sam's attempt at an apology off. "It's your life, who the hell were we to stop you from living it? I just wish you would have talked to me about it instead of telling me the night before you left. Didn't I deserve at least that much from you?"

"I was-"

"Afraid. I get it." Dean cuffed the back of his head. "Stupid mistakes, right?"

"Dean," Sam started, feeling like his brother was pulling away from him now more than ever. He wasn't getting angry, wasn't even letting Sam apologize. He was taking things in, so defeated and accepting. So not like Dean.

"I better get going," Dean interrupted. "I've got a meeting with a friend in Nevada tonight."

Of course he did. When didn't Dean have some place to be when he was uncomfortable?

Sam nodded dumbly and watched his brother walk out of the kitchen and more than likely out of his life for good. Stupid mistakes and they would always be paying for them.

"Go after him," Jess hissed impatiently.

"Didn't you see that?" Sam asked. It was irritating to have Jess on his case like this, but he knew he needed it because he was too damn stupid to do it otherwise. "That was Dean's pulling away. If you hadn't been here it probably would have turned into something physical."

Jess shrugged. "Well it didn't. Now go! You guys are so close. Do you really want him to leave like that?"

"I don't want him to leave at all," Sam sighed. He'd give anything to keep Dean here with him for good but there was more chance of Dean spilling his guts than that ever happening.

"So tell him," Jess prodded gently. "Sam, I've never seen anyone like the two of you. You both want the same thing and neither of you want to be the first to say it. Oh and, Sam- if your brother's as closed off as you say he is, he's never going to be the first."

Sam just looked way. He knew Jess was right, but it didn't make it any easier for him to admit it or to face up to it. Jess was so sure that Dean wanted the same thing for them that Sam did, but he couldn't be so sure. He'd grown up with Dean, he knew everything there was to know about his brother and even _he_ wasn't sure what Dean wanted.

"Do you love your brother?" Jess asked suddenly.

"What kind of question is that?" Sam snorted, turning amused eyes on her.

"Do you love your brother?" she repeated. "It's a simple question, baby."

Hell, yes it was a simple question. The answer however was much more complicated. He loved his brother, but how? Every time Jess called him baby or acted as his own personal cheerleader in this, he felt guilty. Like he was betraying her somehow by practically pining over Dean.

"Yes," he finally managed. "I've always loved him."

She grinned brightly at him and his stomach sank. Had he really just admitted that to her? His girlfriend, his Jess…he'd just told her he was in love with his brother and what did she do? She smiled at him. Bright and so misunderstanding.

He was confused enough himself about his feelings for his brother but everything they'd been through, today's conversation, the panic attacks and the deep seated need for Dean to need him- it all added up.

It was Dean his body always ached for, it was Dean his heart skipped a beat for. Every caught breath, every quickened pulse, they'd always been for Dean. Not even Jess had ever made him feel those things and he'd thought for the longest time he'd been in love with her.

But it was Dean, he realized. It was Dean that he'd always been in love with.

"Go tell him that," Jess said, breaking into his half panicked thoughts.

"What?" Sam whispered. "Tell him what?"

"Tell him you _love_ him. He might not stay, Sam, but he'll tell you the same thing."

"You think?" he asked. He was half dazed by his realization. The thought of loving Dean made so much sense that it didn't scare him, in fact he felt better now than he had in a long time. Relieved, almost, now that he had a name for his feelings.

But the idea of telling Dean that he was in love with him, admitting that the panic attacks he'd been having since he was a kid were all because of Dean, terrified him. It terrified him more than anything else that had happened today. He was more terrified than when he'd woken up this morning knowing Dean was gone and not knowing if he'd ever come back.

"Of course! Sam, he's your brother. Have you been listening at all today? Last night, what I said about him, I was right wasn't I?"

Sam nodded weakly. "Yeah, but-"

"But nothing," she squeaked. "Sam, if you don't go tell your brother you love him, I'm going to." Jess grinned, her eyes lighting up with amusement. She thought he'd say it back, that he'd tell Sam he loved him too and maybe he would. Just not the way Jess thought he meant it.

He climbed to his feet and made his way out of the kitchen without a backwards glance at Jess. How had it taken him this long to realize how strong his feelings for Dean were? How had it had taken four years of suffering and his all too helpful girlfriend, who was helping herself right out of his life if she was right?

What if he didn't say it back though? What if those four years turned into four more, then another four and on and on until Dean just never came home at all? Eventually that day would come but he wanted to be there. He wanted to make more memories with Dean before that day came around and he wanted them to be good memories, not sour or made of bitter hatred.

Chewing anxiously at his bottom lip, he followed the quiet sounds of Dean packing down the hall. He didn't have much time to make up his mind. Dean was going to walk out that door in the next few minutes if he didn't stop him and God knew if he'd ever see his brother again.


	5. Chapter 5

_Rock bottom and over the edge  
Well it's not like it hurts that much anyway.  
Upside down and inside out.  
When I leave here I'm going alone.  
Well it's not like, it not like it hurts much anyway._

Dean leaned heavily against the bedroom door. He was exhausted. Talking around his feelings without actually spilling anything took a lot more out of him than he had expected. He must be out of practice. Pushing away from the door he slid his duffel out from underneath the bed and packed up what little he'd left behind. Maybe he'd gone too far by actually hiding his things, but did it really matter now? It hadn't mattered all that much to Sam when he'd walked away without a word.

The bedroom door opened behind him and for a second he almost stopped packing. But that would be stupid. To Sam that would be a go ahead for pounding his feelings or guilt, because it seemed Sam had a lot more guilt than Dean had expected. He threw the rest of his clothes into the duffel and zipped it up, turning around to face Sam for the first time since he'd entered the room. Sam's head was bent, dark hair masking his eyes and hands shoved deep into his pockets Dean didn't need to see his brother's face to know he was doing everything he could to stay in control of his feelings. Lower lip firmly situated between his teeth, eyes misty-typical Sammy.

"Don't worry about it," Dean said moving around Sam. "It's over, man. What happened, happened." He meant for his words to be reassuring, not cruel, but Sam flinched all the same.

"Is it really over?" Sam asked quietly. What he meant was: 'are _we_ really over?'

"_We're_ never going to be over, Sammy. But this conversation is," Dean stated calmly. They were never going to be over, how could they be? They were brothers and they were bonded more than anyone ever could be, that wasn't something hurtful words could change. He didn't want to get into that though, he'd been through enough emotional crap in this one trip to last him a lifetime. If Sam wanted to keep up this conversation he was going to have to wait until the next time their paths crossed, whenever that would be.

"Would he notice, Dean?" Sam pushed, ignoring Dean's attempt at shutting down. "Because I would. If you didn't come back, I'd know."

"What, here in Palo Alto, college boy?" Dean shook his head, annoyed at his own smart mouth. "I don't think so."

Sam was dead set on ripping his heart apart as best he could before Dean left though, wasn't he? Worse then that even, was knowing that Sam was right. That one day he wouldn't come back and it may take Dad days, weeks, maybe even months, to realize his oldest wasn't coming back, or even that he was gone.

That was the trouble with hunting on your own. There was no one to cover your back. Then again, alone meant never having to cover anyone's but your own. Dean liked it better when he had someone to cover. Sam, especially. Protecting his brother was what he'd always been good at.

"It doesn't matter where I am, Dean. If something ever happened to you," Sam swallowed hard against that thought. "there's no way I couldn't know. I'd feel it."

Dean's throat closed up, his chest starting to heave with the effort to breathe. What kind of thing was that to say? They weren't girls, they weren't two quarreling lovers, they were grown men who needed to just accept that neither wanted the same as the other.

"You'd feel it?" Dean choked out softly. "You really think you'd know if I was gone? Well, what the hell do you think it is that scares me so damn bad?" It's knowing that if something happened to Sam he'd feel it, and he'd never get to say goodbye, never get the chance to protect Sam.

"Nothing's going to happen to me here. You're the one that keeps putting your life on the line, hunting alone. It's insane, Dean. You've got no one to cover your back!"

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" he yelled. Dammit, he'd said this conversation was over.

"Dean-"

"No," Dean growled. "I've gotta go, Sam. Have a good life." Dean turned his back on Sam to hide the tears stinging the backs of his eyes and reached for the door knob. It killed him to walk away from Sam like this, but if they kept going he was afraid that things would only get worse instead of better. That was the typical pattern between the two of them lately.

"What about a family, huh, Dean?" Sam stopped him. "We both know that's all you've ever wanted."

Dean stopped. Family had always been his weakness, it didn't take a genius to figure that out, but what the hell was the point? "What, so I can have another kid that hates me? Thanks, but one's enough."

"I don't," Sam groaned. "God, dammit, I don't hate you."

Dean shrugged. "Just disappointed then?"

"No! I've never been disappointed with you." Sam stepped forward, crowding him against the door. "Why would you even say that?" he asked, gripping Dean's shoulders gently.

Dean shuddered under his brother's hands and stepped back before he could stop himself, soaking up Sam's warmth. He felt Sam step forward to meet him, his chest brushing Dean's back teasingly. Couldn't they just stop talking about it now? Couldn't Sam let him go or fuck him already?

That thought startled him and he curled his hands into fists to keep himself from jerking away. Sam wouldn't fuck him, he was his _brother_. Where the hell had that thought come from?

Anxious and sick over his sudden change in thoughts, Dean cleared his throat and resisted the sweet pull of Sam's body. "Because you needed me to say something that night and I couldn't even do that."

"You were hurt!" Sam argued. "I went behind your back, how could I expect you to defend that?"

Dean smiled and shook his head, knowing Sam couldn't see his face. It was just so Sam to apologize to Dean now, to take everything on himself in the face of Dean's silent desperation. "Sam, it's your life, I told you that."

"Yeah, I know that it's my life, Dean. But I didn't even bother to tell you I was applying. I sprung it on you last minute and didn't call for four years. I knew that you didn't feel the same way Dad did, I was just too stupid to realize that before."

A comfortable silence fell over them and Dean just let himself feel the warmth radiating from Sam and the reassuring weight of his brother's hands on his shoulders, his thumbs brushing lightly against the back of Dean's neck.

"I don't," Dean said around the lump in his throat. "I don't feel the same way he does."

God help him, he could never push Sam away.

xXx

Sam knew that, he'd always known that, he'd just wanted to hear Dean say it. For once he wanted Dean to be the one to express his feelings instead of always having to chase after him for the smallest admission of emotion.

"Why?" Sam asked of the back of his brother's head.

"Why what, Sam?" Dean tilted his head to the side, probably out of habit more than anything. It wasn't like he could see Sam's face, otherwise he'd see the tears leaking from Sam's eyes and the uncontrollable tremble in his bottom lip.

"Why don't you feel that way?"

Why _didn't _Dean feel the same way Dad did? He had a hell of a lot more invested in Sam than Dad ever did, and being alone had never been an issue for Dad. He'd been fine so long as he had the hunt. But even Dean, who lived for the hunt, needed some kind of human contact. And honestly, how long were nameless faces and cheap fucks going to last him?

Sam didn't want that for his brother. He didn't want any of that life for Dean.

Dean sighed and shook his head. "That's just too much pain to hold onto, Sam. We've had enough pain in our lives, don't you think?"

"Yeah," he murmured. They had. "I'm sorry," Sam added.

He hadn't meant to hurt Dean, he'd foolishly thought that by leaving without warning it would hurt less, like a band aid being ripped off. The faster things were over, the better. Only, that didn't seem to be the case.

"Look," Dean said, turning around. "I am too. For a lot of things, Sammy. But it's time to let go."

"Let go of what?" Sam asked warily. It sounded too much like a brush off for his comfort.

"Of stupid things." He leaned in until his lips were pressed to Sam's ear. "This wasn't a life we chose, Sam. It chose us. You can't escape that. So next time you think you're being paranoid and doing anything to avoid calling me, you remember that."

Dean pulled back and pressed a lingering kiss to Sam's forehead, his hands gripping Sam's shoulders lightly. "I'm sorry," he said again.

Something inside Sam snapped at the gentle brush of his brother's lips and before he could stop himself he'd asked the most dangerous question of all. "Can't you stay?"

Dean froze. "What?"

"Can't you stay?" he repeated in a hushed whisper, afraid that if he raised his voice anymore he'd break into tears.

Dean shook his head, a corner of his mouth lifting. "You made a choice, Sam. I don't know how to protect you from this one."

"I thought you could protect me from anything," he answered weakly. What else was there to say? He'd put himself as far out there as he could bring himself to do and had asked Dean to stay. Instead of an answer, he gave him, what? A reminder that he'd been the one to walk away?

"I'll always try," Dean promised.

"Then stay," Sam tried again, some of his strength coming back to him with the lack of substance in Dean's answers. He wanted something more than an _'I'll always try' _and wasted _'I'm sorry'_s. What Sam wanted was Dean to tell him he loved him, to agree to stay, or a confession that if he stayed he was afraid he'd never be able to let go of Sam. Just something _more_ than what Dean was offering.

Dean shook his head again. "Sam," he sighed. "I don't belong here, you know that. We _both _know that. Besides you have Jess now, you don't need me anymore little brother, not like you used to."

He turned away then, opening the door and forcing a speechless Sam back. This was it. If Sam was going to say something, if he was going to try and make things right between them it had to be now. Dean was done with talking, done with awkward goodbyes. He wanted gone and Sam had one heart stopping second to change all that.

"Dean," He called hoarsely, hoping that just one last desperate plea for Dean to stay would break his brother's resolve and all the time they'd wasted would be forgotten instead of the all the times they'd had together.

Dean paused, turning slightly in order to look at Sam out of the corner of his eye. Sam's heart skipped a beat, his chest filling with hope. Maybe that was all it would take. "You know where to find me if you ever need me," Dean promised. "Goodbye, Sammy."

The door snapped shut behind his brother, his hurried footsteps the only sound in the apartment. Sam let his head fall forward against the closed bedroom door, the heat of Dean's body and the sincerity of his brother's words leaving him emptier than ever.

Why did he have to be so blind for so long to the feelings he had for his brother? Why did it take his clueless but well meaning girlfriend and years of pain and separation for him to _finally get it_? And why the hell couldn't he say the words Dean needed to hear to make him stay?

"I love you," he whispered. The silence of the empty room a resounding reminder that his begging was going unheard, but not unanswered.


	6. Chapter 6

-Note- Kay, so reviews have been practically nonexistant and I've decided to take a bit of a break. I've got a lot of work I need to get done with my writing and other things, but I've decided that I should probably finish this one last story up at least. Hopefully you'll like it! -Note-

_I have my own routine now  
I'm keeping busy in my own way  
I'm learning ways to not feel  
Like I'm down here forever_

Walking out on Sam had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, but he didn't have a choice. The pleading in Sam's voice when he'd asked him to stay had been enough to put him right back in the past, where a sweet faced baby boy looked up at him and begged him not to put him down while a disapproving father insisted that Dean let him walk on his own. For good or bad, it had brought everything right back to the surface and Dean couldn't deal with that, couldn't live like that.

Sam had his own life to live. He'd made his decision. And as wrong as Dad had been to tell Sam he had to choose between them and his own life, to never come back, Dean couldn't forcibly bring him back either. He couldn't stay here and hold Sam's hand while he lived his life and Dean didn't. He had to let Sam walk on his own. _He _had to walk on his own.

He forced a grin as he spotted Jess standing in the kitchen doorway. The girl was sweet and she had good intentions but Dean was on the edge and he really didn't want to have to deal with her or overwhelmingly love for his younger brother. It only reminded him what he didn't have and what she did.

"Hey," he said smoothly, any trace of discomfort gone. "It was great meeting you." _Really great, _he thought miserably. _What's better than a smiling reminder of all you'd lost? Or been replaced with. _

"It was really great to meet you too," she returned, her eyes flickering to the hall, waiting for Sam to appear. When he didn't she turned her gaze back to Dean and smiled warmly. "You should stop by again, it meant a lot to Sam. He misses you, you know."

Dean laughed hoarsely. "Yeah, I miss the geek too. But I really do have to be going." He gave her a brief nod and crossed the short distance to the door, his hand on the knob before she spoke again.

"Dean," she called. "He never stops thinking about you."

"Yeah?" Well, he never stopped thinking about Sam either, but what was he supposed to do?

"Yeah," she replied, coming up behind him. "Coming here wasn't easy for him."

"It wasn't easy for any of us," Dean snapped. He winced at the tone of his voice and lowered his head. "Sam knows that door never closed, not for me." He pulled the door open and stepped out into the bright sunshine, annoyingly aware of Jess's presence as he made his way out into the mocking daylight.

"Sam-"  
Dean whirled around, smirk firmly in place as she stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind them. He really didn't feel like hearing how much Sam missed him. It wasn't making his leaving any easier.

"Sam's a great guy," Dean interrupted, putting on his most charming attitude. "But he trusts people too much. That's something he didn't get from me. I may look like mom, but that's all Sam. And he needs someone to look after him, make sure he doesn't trust the wrong people."

Jess nodded. "We don't know each other very well, but I do love Sam, and I wouldn't let anything-"

Dean raised a hand. "I know you love my brother, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just asking you to watch after him, make sure he stays Sammy, but in one piece."

Jess's smile widened, more sincere than before. "Yeah, I can do that. If you think maybe you could come around every now and then and check on him yourself."

He laughed. This girl was something else. No one had ever talked to him like he didn't know his brother, no one he'd ever known had dared. Not even in High School. They'd all been too afraid, knowing how defensive he was when it came to Sam, but this girl, she just didn't care. Not if it was for Sam. He could understand that.

xXx

Sam lifted his head up from the door at the sound of Jess's voice, calling out to Dean the same way he had. Jess wasn't giving up on Dean yet because she knew how much he meant to Sam, so how the hell could he?

Since when had he had such a defeatist attitude? That was Dean's take on things. Sam was supposed to be stubborn and petulant when it suited him, and now it sure the hell suited him just fine. This was his brother he was thinking about letting walk out of his life, not some stranger, some girl he'd met at a party or in a psych class. His _brother_. The man who had raised him, had cared for him all his life, who he'd somehow fallen in love with along the way.

Letting go wasn't an option.

Swearing softly he chased after his brother, catching the front door on the downswing. Jess was standing just outside, caught up in his brother's charm as she tried her best to get him to stick around. A sudden pang of guilt hit him, but he pushed it aside. He could no more help his feelings for Dean, then Jess could for him. He hadn't chosen to fall in love with Dean, or even to hide his feelings for Dean in Jess as he'd done for the past four years. Like everything else in his life, it had just happened. And now he had the chance to make things right. He wasn't going to give that up though, he'd done enough giving up on Dean over the years.

Dean glanced from Jess to Sam, his eyes quickly dropping as they met Sam's. He thought he saw a flash of guilt and panic in his brother's eyes, but he'd turned away before Sam could be sure of it. One thing was clear though, he was rushing to get the hell out of there and Sam's window of opportunity was quickly closing.

xXx

Dean glanced up as Sam walked out the door, determination in his features. Their eyes met, Sam's chocolate brown turning his insides to liquid. He quickly dropped his gaze to Jess again.

"Yeah," he agreed quickly, needing to be as far from Sam and this place as possible. He was starting to suffocate here. He could promise Jess he'd be back the next day, it didn't mean he'd be there. This wasn't Sam he was promising, it was his girlfriend. He may like her and he may hate her for it, but he didn't owe her the kind of loyalty he owed his brother. "I'll do my best."

Jess reached out a hand to stop him as he turned away from them both. Dean glanced back at her, impatient to get out of there before Sam could corner him too. "He just wants to make you proud," she informed him quietly. "That's all."

Dean snorted softly. "I've been proud of him his whole life." There wasn't anything Sam could do to change that. He raised his gaze hesitantly to Sam's. He quirked a brow in his brother's direction, hoping he'd heard at least his own words if not Jess's too.

Nodding to himself, he shook Jess off and started for the Impala. That was a pretty good note to leave on and he wanted to keep it that way. Dean wasn't a fool though, he knew Sam would come after him, would try just once more to fix things. It was Sam's nature to want things to end with the both of them satisfied, but that wasn't going to happen no matter what Sam said to him now. He had to let go and it was stupid of him not to have seen it sooner. He'd only dragged things out and hurt them both.

Sam's quiet footsteps filled his ears as his younger brother followed him to the Impala. He waited anxiously for Sam to start, maybe plead or yell. After all Dean was the one that had come here, that had made such a big deal out of Sam's leaving in the first place. Sam must have thought he was crazy, turning down Sam's invitation to stay. Or maybe he expected it. Hunting was his life after all, Stanford was Sam's. Love can't fix everything. This was the real world filled with monsters and pain. There would be no fairy tale ending, not for them.

xXx

Sam sucked in a breath, fighting back tears. He wanted Dean to stay, not run faster, but if he let go of those tears there would be no stopping his brother then. He bit down hard on his lower lip, focusing on the physical pain instead of the ache in his chest. What Jess had said was true- though he knew she'd tried her best to keep her interference from his ears- he just wanted to make Dean proud and since he'd left for Stanford that had seemed almost impossible. Until now.

He followed Dean to the Impala, stomach churning. He didn't know what else to say to his brother. He'd said everything short of _I'm in love with you and if you leave now I'm pretty sure I'll go insane_. Considering everything else though, it'd probably only scare Dean away for good-if this goodbye wasn't for good already.

Dean continued on, pulling open the door and tossing his duffel into the back. He ran a hand through his short cropped hair and turned back around, leaning heavily on the open door. "You know Sam," he started, saving Sam from having to stumble his way into a pathetic attempt at a conversation. "There was a time when I thought that you could never let go of me and when you did…I realized I was the one that could never let go of you."

Sam blinked, his mind going blank. "Dean," he stammered, "I-"

"See you around, little brother. Take care of Jess, she's a great girl." He smiled and climbed into the Impala before Sam could say another word. And even if he had given Sam the chance, what could he say to that? His brother had just admitted something so mind blowing Sam wasn't sure he would ever recover from it.

All these years he'd seen it as Dean was his world, it had never occurred to him that he could be Dean's too. He'd always thought the hunt was Dean's world, his family, yes, but not _him_.

Sam watched numbly as Dean gave a wave to Jess who stood in the doorway to their apartment to give the brothers some privacy, and turned back to him. Dean smiled and gave him a teasing wink, so like him, before pulling away.

And as Dean took his turn at walking out of Sam's life, he comforted himself in the only way he could. With the knowledge that Dean's smile hadn't reached his eyes.


End file.
